


Helping Hand

by amante_del_latte



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 04:24:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13562742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amante_del_latte/pseuds/amante_del_latte
Summary: Elliot has an episode in the prison cafeteria, but Leon is luckily there to help him out.





	Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from tumblr  
> Kinktober '17 - Public

Elliot doesn’t remember how it happened. One minute he was listening to Leon yap away, and the next he was thinking about putting his cock in his mouth so he couldn’t talk. He couldn’t shake the thought either - full lips wrapping around him, swallowing all they could. Why was he thinking like this - Elliot never thought like this. It had to be pressure building up, or after effects of his adderall-induced high. He sank down in his seat, and his knees ending up bumping against Leon’s across the cafeteria table.

“You alright, man?” Elliot faintly heard Leon ask him, and he nodded slowly, his mouth pursed tight. “You look clammy, bro. Like you’re gonna faint.” Elliot squeezed his eyes shut at this, tilting his head up towards the ceiling and taking a deep breath to calm himself. He heard Leon moving, and assumed he had got up to leave. Instead, he suddenly felt Leon slide into the seat next to him, his shoulder pressing up against Elliot’s.

“You’re coming off the Adderall, man, I told you not to fuck with that shit,” Leon scolded. Elliot would have reminded him that Leon was the one who gave him Adderall in the first place, but his mouth felt like it was full of cotton when he tried to open it.

“You need to fucking chill, one of the guards is gonna notice you’re all strung out.” Elliot heaved a labored breath at this, and Leon gripped his thigh roughly under the table. Whatever he said next was lost to Elliot as a jolt ran up his body, making all his muscles tense. A shiver went down his spine as he relaxed, and he was suddenly very aware of how hard he was in his pants. Leon must have noticed too, because he drew his hand away.

“Shit,” was all he said, cursed under his breath, and Elliot felt a wave of shame wash over him. He shied away from Leon reflexively, embarrassed. Leon had to know Elliot was thinking about him, had to think he was disgusting, a degenerate. He tried to think of escape routes, but his brain was fogging over. Besides, where did he expect to get to with his pants tented? Around here, that was an invitation to be harassed. Elliot dung his knuckles against his leg, a raspy, pained breath forcing its way out of his lungs as panic began to set in.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me because you’re a fucking space cadet, but you need to pull it together bro. You’re gonna make a scene.” Leon placed his hand in the center of Elliot’s back, anchoring him. “Just take deep breaths man, come back down to earth.” Elliot fought the urge to pull away from Leon’s touch only because he had a point: if Elliot went into a panic there was going to be hell to pay later.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking about that has you like this but you have a serious problem right now, dog. You got a plan on how to sort that out?” Elliot finally reopened his eyes, blinking off the florescent lights. He glanced at himself under the table, his erection more than noticeable through his jumpsuit pants. He felt his eyelids flutter again as he realized he didn’t have a plan at all, and his back muscles twitched under Leon’s hand.

“Shit man,” Leon muttered again, taking his hand off Elliot’s back. Oddly Elliot felt a whine bubble in his throat at the loss of contact, but was quickly more than sated when Leon slid his hand under the table and grabbed his thigh again.

“You really can’t do nothing for your fucking self, can you?” Leon asked, and any scathing response Elliot could have dreamed to shoot back was swallowed as Leon grabbed his cock through his pants.

“Man, I need you to eat your food and act like nothing’s happening, okay?” Leon directed him, glancing towards a guard. “Because if I get caught with my hand down your pants, shit’s gonna hit the fan for both of us.” Elliot found the ability in himself to nod, and promptly picked up a fork to resume eating to the best of his ability. Leon stroked him a few more times over his pants, causing the fabric to rub against Elliot in a way that pleasured him and made his skin crawl at the same time. He twitched his leg, bumping it slightly against Leon’s arm in hopes he would get the hint. Whether he did or not, Leon was soon dipping under the elastic waistband of Elliot’s prison jumpsuit to grab him without a barrier. He slid his thumb over the head of Elliot’s cock, gathering precum that he used to lubricate his shaft. He moved slowly; torture to Elliot, but practical in the sense of not drawing attention. Leon slid his own cafeteria tray in front of him and picked at his food with his free hand, moving things around his plate with his fork.

“All I’m saying is, people say that show is about nothing. But they do shit every episode man, that’s not nothing!” Leon started, and Elliot tried to tune out his words as Leon jerked him off. “No one can argue Kramer does nothing man, that mothafucker is always in some shit.” Elliot wished Leon would move faster. Truthfully he wished Leon could duck under the table and deepthroat him until he was shaking. That was a thought Elliot could hold onto, could cum to - Leon taking him so far his nose pressed against Elliot’s hips, his throat warm and slick around Elliot’s cock as it twitched. Leon took Elliot’s cock out of his pants as he began to twitch more rapidly, anticipating his finish.

“And don’t get me started on Elaine. I’d peel those bigass shoulderpads off her, you know what I’m saying?” No, Elliot didn’t, and he was cursing himself for allowing Leon’s speech to seep into his ears. “She’s got all that hair you can just grab and hold onto while you hit it from behind, and you know she’d be loud too, yellin’ for it.” Elliot’s focus started to slip - the thought of Julia Louis-Dreyfus giving him head just wasn’t as appealing as Leon doing it. Elliot interrupted Leon’s next thought with a strangled moan, much to the apparent surprise of the man next to him. Leon stopped moving his hand but didn’t let Elliot go.

“Please Leon, talk about anything else,” Elliot pleaded, a wheeze in his voice. “I’d rather you talked about a colonoscopy than fucking Seinfeld again.”

“Man, it’s a good fucking show,” Leon defended, giving Elliot’s cock a slight squeeze. When Elliot resisted the urge to jump or moan again, Leon warily began to stroke him once more.

“You gay or something?” Leon asked, and Elliot’s throat seized. He risked turning towards Leon to meet his eye, and found the other man looking right back at him. If Elliot had breath to spare, it would have been caught in his throat at the sight: Leon’s long lashes half obscured his eyes, deep and dark. Elliot felt like they were peeling him back layer by layer, flaying him until he was as raw and vulnerable as his cock in Leon’s hand. Still Elliot’s gaze found its way back to Leon’s mouth, and he throbbed at the sight. He could feel precum dripping from the head of his cock, which Leon smeared over him. Elliot wished he could smear it across Leon’s lips and make him lap it off while Elliot watched.

“You wanna talk about a colonoscopy, that because you’re gay?” Elliot turned away from Leon at this comment, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew Leon was joking with him, but it was a real question. Was he gay? He never really put much thought into it - people were never Elliot’s forte anyway, men or women.

“I’m not gay,” Elliot decided with a sigh, despite having another man’s hand jerking him off.

“Look at me, El,” Leon said, and Elliot indulged him. He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and Leon pumped him faster as thoughts of cumming down his throat swam in Elliot’s mind. He quickly shoved a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth to stifle his moan as he came, dribbling over Leon’s hand as he continued to jerk him off. Only once Elliot completely stilled did Leon release him, grabbing a napkin to covertly wipe his hand with.

“You’re fucking something, my man,” Leon chuckled in disbelief, tossing the napkin down on the floor over Elliot’s mess. Elliot caught his breath for a minute or so, watching Leon eat through half closed eyes.

“So are you,” Elliot finally said, but Leon didn’t hear him. He was already back to talking about TV like nothing even happened.


End file.
